


spiderweb fracture

by quietlyposts



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-22
Updated: 2015-10-22
Packaged: 2018-04-27 15:06:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5053453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quietlyposts/pseuds/quietlyposts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dan watches him walk away and feels his heart shatter like a window hit with a rock; a tiny hit that causes damage through the entire thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	spiderweb fracture

It’s far too early in the morning, the sun barely creeping in through the windows, the sky overcast and grey. They have a long, busy day ahead of them, business meetings and rushing from location to another, and Dan already feels drained. He silences his chirping alarm without really looking at it, his sheets feel warm and soft against his body. He slides out of bed and stretches, his spine stretching pleasantly and yawning largely enough his jaw pops a bit. As he brushes his teeth he can’t shake the feeling of contentment wrapping around him, an almost dreamlike lightness clouding his mind.

Phil is already awake, black hair shining in the artificial light and eyes alert and happy already. There are two mugs of steaming coffee in front of him, and he’s pouring cereal into a bowl noisily. He smiles wide at Dan, gesturing to the mug and launching into a story about a weird dream he had. He gestures wildly at one point and flings a bit of cereal onto the counter. Dan’s mind is still clouded with sleep, and he can feel himself warming up, feeling coming into his toes as he stands in the kitchen, surrounded by a feeling of warmth and home. He picks up the mug he knows is his, the coffee light with a small amount of cream and a lot of sugar, and even before he takes a sip he knows it will taste perfect.

There’s a hint of cinnamon, as if Phil had also felt the warmth of the morning, and it bursts against Dan’s tired tastebuds. He leans against the counter and blinks lazily, watching the way Phil’s t-shirt sleeves shift with his biceps, hem brushing just above his low slung sweatpants. He observes the way the other boy moves, practically dancing around the kitchen, like sunbeams. Phil walks next to Dan, picking up his own mug and taking a sip. Dan shifts his own mug in his hands, feeling it warm his palms as he whispers a thank you to Phil for making it. The older boy smiles, blinding bright and gentle, and then sets his mug down and reaches out toward Dan’s face. He rubs playfully at the stubble blooming on Dan’s cheek, and then his fingers are trailing gently through Dan’s hair. Dan’s eyes slip shut at the sensation, and he exhales slow and steady. Phil’s hand retracts from Dan’s hair, triumphantly holding up a feather that must’ve come from Dan’s pillow. Dan can’t help but smile back, eyes half-lidded with lazy happiness, and then he’s leaning forward, and pressing his lips into Phil’s. Phil’s lips are soft and he can taste coffee on them.

But the taste of the bitter dark coffee Phil loves to drink is like a shock to Dan’s system, and his eyes snap open in the same moment that Phil jerks away from him. Dan feels like he’s been electrocuted, suddenly away of how chapped his lips feel and how fucking cold his toes are, almost burning like when you squeeze an ice cube in your palm. He feels his cheeks burn, the back of his neck flaring up with a horrified blush. Phil’s is looking at him with with concern, and his lips are opening gently, apologetically, and Dan physically jerks back. Burning hot coffee splashes over the sides of his mug and burns his hand, and he slams with a messy splash onto the counter. He chokes out a curse, turning quickly to find paper towels.

“Dan-“ Phil starts, quiet and soft; with pity.

“Don’t.” Dan snaps back, interrupting, and watches irritation play over Phil’s features, his eyebrows knitting together as the pity is washed away by anger.

Dan turns and storms from the room, slamming the bathroom door harshly behind him. He smacks his hands onto the bathroom sink, staring hard at his own reflection. His cheeks are blotchy with redness and his fingers tremble against the cold porcelain. His eyes start to burn with shame, and he squeezes his eyes shut as though that can stop the inevitable. Hot, salty tears leak from the sides of his eyes, leaving itchy trails down his cheeks and pooling under his lashes. His teeth clench hard enough that he knows his jaw will ache will for the rest of the day, but he can’t let himself breath in, can’t let the sobs he knows are fighting to escape from his lungs get any fuel.

His throat feels tight and raw, and his breath is escaping from his nose fast and desperate. His hands shake as he fumbles with the sink, and the sound of the water bursting from the pipes startles him enough to make him catch his breathe. He bends down and cups the cold water in his hands, sinking his burning face into it. The water is soothing against his face, and he can feel himself slowly calming as his heartbeat stops thudding in his skull.

He shuts the water off, and buries his face in a towel. It scrapes against his cheeks and makes him feel smothered, buried, but he holds there tightly, breathing in deeply. He wrenches the bathroom door open and can see Phil hovering at the end of the hallway, arms crosses tight against his chest.

“I’m sorry.” Dan bites out, and can see Phil bristle. He forces his shoulders to relax, inhales carefully through his mouth, and tries again.

“I am sorry, Phil. It was just… a mistake. A weird moment, and- I don’t know. I’m just embarrassed.”

Phil shifts his weight between his feet, and Dan forces himself to make eye contact, grinning sheepishly at his friend. Phil studies him for a moment, as if checking for any cracks in Dan’s armor, and then grins back.

“All aces, mate. Sleepwalking happens, yeah?” He doesn’t sound entirely convinced, but Dan just rakes a hand over the back of his neck, maintaining eye contact, and tries to chuckle as naturally as possible.

“Unfortunately.”

The air between them lightens, Phil apparently buying it, and turns away, starting to chatter about what time they need to leave. Dan watches him walk away and feels his heart shatter like a window hit with a rock; a tiny hit that causes damage through the entire thing. Dan takes a step forward and leaves all his emotions behind, squaring his shoulders, and shaking his mind. There will plenty of cold, dreary mornings to embrace this moment, but for now, he lets the sun warm his skin and focuses in on what he needs to do to survive.


End file.
